Revelation and Sanctuary
by SpunkySpaceCat
Summary: The world is at war, and countries are falling. Without a leader, many wars are fought. Finally, a person steps up called the "Blood Lord." He is a tyrant, who has no sympathy for others. He tortures countries just for fun. Finally, Russia has enough and flees. He forms a society called the Runaways, which revolt against the system. One day, Russia finds America in the snow.


**_READ DESCRIPTION FIRST_**

Russia stared down at Alfred. He looked worse than half the Runaways in his camp. His hair was matted and part of it looked chopped off. Only that damn cowlick remained untouched. His figure had nearly halved, due to the brute cruelty of the Blood Lord. He had cuts and callouses all over his arms and legs, and his clothes looked just as bad as his skin. His bomber jacket was gone, replaced by a frail jacket that was wrapped tightly around his waist. Upon closer inspection, one could see that they were acting like a belt, trying to hold his oversized pants on. And his eyes. Other than the cowlick, only one thing remained. His bright blue eyes. Even after all these years of torture and starvation, they still held a childlike glimmer in them that could only be hope, something that Russia often lacked. Upon first glance, he may seem like everyone else. A lost child, searching for anything or anyone that could help him. But Russia knew better. God, he knew better. This was America, Land of the Free, and Home of the Brave. America, the one who he hated the most, but yet... Also liked the most. In a way. Russia's face, hardened during these years, smiled. For the first time since "the fall" Russia smiled. A genuine smile that most would take as a death threat. He stared at the American, who was panting hard on the snow. A few flakes landed on his dirty hair. Russia put his faucet pipe on the ground and bent down. Violet eyes met blue ones. Russia's smile widened. This was him. His America. After nearly five years, they had met again. Russia tilted America's body up. America's eyes twinkled, and he opened his mouth to say something. Then, his eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp.

Russia had no idea what to do. Panicking, he picked up Alfred and his faucet pipe and quickly ran back to the Runaway camp. He cursed at himself. He had gotten too lost in his emotions to notice America's frail state. After a few minutes of running, he made it back to the small camp that he was forced to call his home. He called out for help, but unfortunately it was late at night. Everyone was asleep. Thinking quickly, he ran up to the emergency system and pushed a combination of buttons. Immediately, a loud speaker started blaring, and tent flaps fluttered as groggy people came out. Upon seeing Russia, a few of them started sprinting over to the tower. If Russia was sounding the alarm, the people knew bad things were happening. Ivan leaped down from the tower with superhuman strength, a 30 foot drop. A few of the normal humans watched in awe as he jumped, a silent _thump_ followed. By then everyone in the camp, about 1,000 people, were staring at Russia. Eyes drifted to the unconscious America lying limp in the corner. Using great care, Russia scooped him up and amid the nervous chattering, strolled to the center of the chaos. Out of his coat, he pulled a loudspeaker out. He held it to his mouth with one hand, and with only one arm, he was somehow holding America in a cradling position.

"Is the doctor here?" He asked urgently, his eyes drifting over the crowd. No one answered. All eyes were on the unconscious America in his arm. Ivan cursed. "Are any of the Allies here?" A few people replied. Ivan could make out a few "yes's" and "no's." Then, out of nowhere, he heard a loud "BLOODY HELL IS THAT AMERICA?!" Ivan sighed with relief. England was here. Even though the cranky Britishman wasn't the best at caregiving, he knew quite a bit about the basics. And because of he and America's history, America may just remain alive.

Ivan remembered when he first found England, he was one of the few that shortly followed his revolting. While Russia was busy in the forest, England and a few other people were making plans to try and follow in his footsteps. While they escaped, a great many of them died, but a number survived also. England had led them to Russia, where they teamed up. Soon after, they set up a camp, and little hints as to where it were, in case any others wanted to join them. That was also when they had founded their name, the Runaways. After England, a great many others joined Russia. Though, barely any countries managed to join him. He was saddened by that. But then again, the countries were the ones the Blood Lord wanted the most. A while after England joined, France did also. Russia was so happy, he could've cried. England did. He kept cursing out the Frenchman, saying stuff like "YOU FROG BUGGER GIT BLOODY HELL DAMMIT!" And stuff like that. Russia left them alone. Soon after, China arrived. Russia was overjoyed at this as well. So were England and France. Ivan could still remember the way they looked when they came. They all looked the same as America did. Ivan could imagine that he looked the same as well.

That was the end of the Allies that came. Over three years went by, and no more arrived. Not even the Axis. Russia constantly worried about them. Especially America and Canada.

Russia handed America over to England, who burst into a heap of tears and curses. The people there watched with sad eyes. Russia whispered some things into England's ear about America's condition and what to do, and stood up to his full 6 foot height. He asked where China and France were. A man stepped forward.

"I think they went scavenging a while ago. I'm sure they'll be back soon." He spoke with a thick Italian accent. Russia saddened. He hoped Italy and Romano were ok. They would be the most scared in this situation. He quickly thanked the man and walked back off into the woods, with the people staring at him behind his back. He didn't care.

Russia was sitting on a stump, staring off into the woods. They were in the country Russia, and that was why Ivan put himself in charge. Russia had barely any cities, just a lot of forests. Which proved useful for the Runaways. The Blood Lord resided somewhere in Europe, but no one was sure. He had a lot of control centers, where he directed guards and kept prisoners, but no one had actually seen his face. Russia blew out a puff of air. He hated this life. He remembered when everything was so... Easy. Sure, there were wars. But none of them were as hard as this. At least during real wars, he could look up, and not see red everywhere. He could look around, and not see starving families, scrounging the streets for shelter and provisions. He had come to hate the color red. It reminded him of blood, and blood was not a rare thing nowadays. Gang fights often rang out of nowhere, and blood was always spilt. Russia remembered his time under the Blood Lord's reign. He was surrounded by the color red. Always. There was not anything that wasn't red. Red. That damn color. The color that had thrown everything into the abyss. He wanted to see yellow again. See a sunflower. Ivan hadn't seen a sunflower for five years. The last one he saw was at America's place. America. Ivan's eyes were welling up with tears. He so desperately the American was alright. He looked so bad... Everything on him looked dead. Except for his eyes. His eyes were the only thing alive on him... Ivan had had enough. He put his head on his gloved hands, and silently wept. He wept for all the years of suffering. He wept for all his lost allies. But most of all, he wept for his lost friends.

It had been about an hour since Russia had walked off. He decided to go back to camp and check on America. Just as he sat up, he was tackled by an unknown force. Whipping out his faucet pipe, he surveyed his attackers. They were France and China. He immediately relaxed and calmed himself down. France and China were bubbling messes, and Russia could barely make out what they were saying.

"One at a time please!" He yelled over their sobs. "What is wrong?"

"Oh Russia!" France blubbered. "America is alive! How ever did you find him?" Oh. That's what they were going on about. They had found America. Russia stroked France's head.

"Ah yes. He collapsed in front of me. Is he doing ok? Has England poisoned him with his food yet?" China wiped his nose and shook his head.

"The exact opposite, actually." He stated. "England cooked some food for him, and immediately America was revived." China laughed, a good hearty laugh. The first time in a while. "You should've seen America's face! He looked like he had died and gone to heaven!" China panted. "He started looking better, but then he asked for you. We then came running over." China looked ready to pass out from the exertion. France chuckled and stared at Russia. "Are you ready to head back?" Russia nodded. "Let's go check on that dumb American."

They made it back into camp, and France showed Russia where America was being housed. They waited outside as Russia went in. It was a small tent, but larger than the normal ones. America was on a cot, with England sitting next to him. Both of them were sleeping. Russia smiled. He would leave them alone. He was sure they had a lot of catching up to do. He knew he did. Just as he left the tent, America perked up, but he was too late. Ivan was already gone.

Russia motioned for France and China to follow him, and they made their way over to the main tent. Ivan rolled out a map. It had all of Lord Blood's control centers circled. There were about 20 in Russia, and over 100 in the whole world. Whenever Russia looked at it, he always got depressed. There were so many... But he always tried to hide it in front of the hopeful people. They believed that he could do anything. And he wouldn't take that belief away. He sneaked a peek at France and China. They both had grim, but determined expressions on. Ivan smirked. He pointed to the nearest control center, which happened to be the largest one in Russia. Tomorrow, they would overthrow it. It was an ambitious idea, but Russia believed he and his group could do it. They had been planning this raid for over two weeks, and they wouldn't back down easily. The center was less than a day's walk away. This was because it was the center that Ivan escaped from. Ivan hoped that it had changed over the years, that maybe some new countries had been escorted into it. Maybe, just maybe... Only one problem posed them. It was America. That dumb American would certainly want to come with them, but in his state, it would be impossible. Russia just didn't know what to do with him. He asked China and France if they had any ideas, but they had none. Russia sighed, and told the two to get some sleep. They would need it for tomorrow. They urged Russia to do the same. He agreed, but sent them off.

Ivan found America's tent, and entered. England was now awake, and waved Russia over. He whispered a few words about America's condition into his ear. Russia nodded, and England slowly raised from his chair, and left. Russia took his place and stared at the sleeping figure of America. He desperately wanted to wake him, but he knew he couldn't, America needed his rest.

It turned out he didn't need to. America woke up on his own, and flashed one of his trademark smiles in Russia's direction. Russia smiled back and waved. With an ugly grimace, America sat up on his elbows. Ivan bent down and helped him until he was in a sitting position. Alfred shook him off and told him he didn't need help. Russia reluctantly obliged.

"So, Mr. Russia." Despite being half dead, America could still act snobby if he wanted to. "What's been going on?" Ivan sighed. "A lot, actually. Do you want to hear it all in one go?" America nodded.

After about an hour, Russia's story was done. He had told Alfred everything that had happened to him since the day they got separated. All the while, America listened with hard eyes. When Russia finished, he let out a long, low whistle.

"I hate that damn Blood Lord." He said. Ivan agreed. "So, America... How did you get here?" America just stared at him, then smiled. "Why, all I did was beat some guards up. Then I leaped over the fence, like a superhero. Then I ran, and found some of your hints." He grinned as he held one up. "Then I found you guys. But damn, you were a long ways away from my center." Russia nodded. "I am very sorry, but we can only go so far. If we could, we would put our camps all over Europe." America nodded. "I understand." The two stared at each other for a while. Ivan finally broke the silence.

"Er, America. Tomorrow I plan on raiding one of the centers." America's eyes widened. "I would take you with me, but you know I cannot. You are in too frail a condition to go with us, to fight guards." Alfred pursed his lips, then grinned.

"I understand, but I can come." He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a vial. Ivan's eyes widened. "Uhm, America. What is that?" America just smirked and downed the drink. Immediately, his body spasmed out. His eyes appeared to come out of their sockets, and his limbs jerked in irregular directions. All Russia could do was watch in horror. After what seemed like an eternity, America reverted to his original state. Except, he wasn't in his original state. He looked just like a normal America, except a lot more skinny. Russia's mouth hung open as America popped a few joints back into place. He surveyed Russia, and grinned.

"Gosh, Russia. You look even worse than I do. Are you sure you can go in that condition?" Then, America stood up in the tent and did some stretches. He looked very healthy, as if all the torture and insomnia went away. Russia managed to stutter out a few words. "W-What D-Did Y-Y-ou Do?" America just smiled. "It's the new thing now. Apparently it's called a "potion" which gets rid of all your wounds. He twisted his arm around. "And they're being mass produced in that center you're gonna raid." Ivan's eyes lit up. A potion to get rid of all your wounds? He looked America up and down. He seemed as healthy as a newborn horse. He felt so relieved. This was even more reason to get to that center.

"Do you have any more of those?" He asked. "Unfortunately, no. I could only snitch one." Ivan nodded. It was unfortunate, but yet they still worked. America had demonstrated himself. "So, Russia. I think I can go tomorrow." Russia smiled, and for the first time in years, the two first bumped. Tomorrow, they would take that center, and get those potions. Then maybe, just maybe. They could find more countries.

 _Time skip brought to you by my tired hands. God, I've been typing this for the longest time._

Tomorrow finally came, and everyone was ready. Russia and America had already explained the potions to the camp, and after hearing this news, everyone rejoiced. A new hope had sparked in their eyes. Today, they would raid the center. Then, Alfred slapped himself.

"What in the world did you do that for?" Russia asked. America laughed and told himself he was an idiot. "Dude! I totally forgot! I saw the Axis powers in the same camp I was in! We gotta get them too!"

 _Ok, I'm done. I can't type more. My hands are dead. Did you like it? I hope you did. If you want a second part, just tell me. I'll be more than happy to make a second part to his. I'm actually liking it. ^^_


End file.
